The Tragedy of Love
by V. Highwind
Summary: Elena White is approached by two people with an unusual proposition. Hopefully updated with actual formatting! This series will, (a long time from now), include slashy content. Be afraid...


CENTERThe tragedy of love/CENTER  
  
CENTERA romance by V. Highwind/CENTER  
  
Disclaimer: This story will eventually involve shonen-ai, and some gradual yaoi. For those of you unfamiliar with those terms, what rock have you been under? Yaoi and shonen-ai are Japanese terms referring to relationships between two males, with shonen-ai usually being milder and less graphic than yaoi.  
Also, I don't own the characters or environments of Final Fantasy VII, I only bow before their magnificence. I do claim the way they react in this work as my own interpretation of their responses to formulated scenarios. So, in short, don't sue me, I love this game. Thank you.  
  
CENTER***/CENTER  
  
Elena White blearily stumbled towards her door, tripping over a pile of boxes in the pitch black, managing to reach the door in time to keep her head from exploding at the high-pitched ring of the doorbell. As she opened the door, she realized that she was not fit for entertaining guests. She wore her favorite pink bathrobe over grey sweatpants and a overly baggy T-shirt. Her eyes were puffy and red, and dark circles showed that she had stayed up more than her fair share of nights. As she tried to greet her guests, her voice cracked as her throat ached. She reached in her pocket for a tissue, blew her nose with a loud trumpet, and stuffed it into the opposite pocket. In short, she seemed to be a complete and total mess. This assessment could also be reached about her apartment.   
Half-packed boxes were scattered across the room, the majority of which were pushed against the wall in a half-hearted attempt at space management. Those boxes were marked as "Confidential Documents", and were gathering a thick layer of dust. In the center of the room, there rested a large plaid sofa that seemed to have had better days. Stuffing came from the edges of the cushions, sometimes in random spots. The armrests seemed to be held on only by the generous application of duct tape, and the middle seat seemed to sink to the floor. It was also evident that this is were Elena slept, because her hallway, which presumably led to the bedroom, was packed full of dozens upon dozens of identical boxes, and huge comforters were bundled on the couch, falling off in rich rivers of cloth. A table was placed in front of the sofa, propped up on one side by a few bricks, and seemed to hold the entire junk food rack of a convenience store, most of the bags empty. A small TV rested in the far corner of the table, silently broadcasting a soap opera rerun. Another nondescript box served as Elena's footrest, and was marked "Personnel Records". She seemed to have actually opened this one, as a thick packet of papers, identical to what would be contained in the box, laid, half-crumpled on the couch.   
As she noticed her visitors regarding her abode in what could be seen as horror, Elena regained her voice. "Hello, may I help you?" she asked, hiding a small cough with the flat of her hand.  
Of the two people who were standing at her door, one was a medium sized male with straight, short blue hair. He wore a dark blue suit, and had grey eyes. He seemed a bit startled at being addressed.  
"Oh! Miss.." he looked at the clipboard in his hand, "White. I-I mean we-" His companion, a rather tall brunette with blue eyes and a black suit, sighed, and nudged him aside.  
With a smooth tone and a gentle voice, she began. "Miss White, we're here on behalf of an organization..."  
"I don't want any." Said Elena as she slammed the door.   
The man grinned slightly as he turned to the well-dressed woman. "Well, that went well, don't you think?"  
With an exasperated sigh, the woman pressed the doorbell again. No sound could be heard from inside. With a more determined look on her face, she held it in, creating a sound which could only be described as ear-splitting. There was the sound of crashing, a thump, some muttered swear words, and then the bang with which the door opened. Elena looked disheveled, and she had a protruding lump on her forehead, and a look which could kill. The man intelligently began staring at the floor. The woman, however, was not affected, and regarded Elena with a smile. "Now, Miss White. Can we talk?"  
Elena narrowed her eyes as she tried to remember were she put her gun, then smiled sweetly. "Yes. Please do come in." Something in her tone scared the man, but then again, most things did.  
CENTER***/CENTER  
  
Elena and her guests were seated around her table. She had cleared it off a bit, although a few cups had refused to budge, and the two women were seated on the couch; the man sat on a box bending to his weight. As she sipped her tea, Elena thought about what had just been said. She pondered for another moment, then broke the silence. "So, what you're saying is that you want me to be a Turk again?", she asked with a bit of confusion in her voice.  
The woman, who was a complete contrast in her pressed suit to the wrinkled environment, replied. "No, Ms. White. We want you to become a Smith."  
"There's a difference?"  
"A sizable one, actually. Firstly, the Smiths started as a division of the Turks. But, due to some conflicts of interests, our founder broke from the Turks, and formed our organization."  
"Conflicts of interest? What do you mean?"  
"Well, of course you're aware that the Turks have been associated with many 'unsavory' activities." At Elena's curt nod, Jordan Rhodes continued. "The Smiths prefer not to encourage that type of behavior. Instead, we specialize in information gathering."  
"Isn't that the same thing that the Turks did? Originally, I mean. Reconnaissance work?"  
"It started out that way, but the Smiths have a much more advanced system. In fact, our technology is currently superior to anything else you could find. For decades now, we've silently watched the world develop. We have watched cities built and destroyed, wars fought, lives lost and born anew, and all throughout this, we have seen society sinking deeper into corruption. However, there have been some examples of the growth of humanity. The defeat of Sephiroth, of course, being a good example of this."   
Elena was shocked. "How do you know about that?"  
Jordan chided Elena. "Please do not patronize me, Ms. White. With a band of heroes who caused that much random property damage, and a villain who destroyed whatever he pleased, it was hard not to notice their comings-and-goings. While we are still considering Mr. Strife and his companions as potential recruits, we took especial interest in your generation of Turks, Ms. White."  
"Elena, please. If you're trying to recruit me, you might try on a personal level."  
Jordan looked as Elena with a wry grin. "Your assumption is correct, Elena."  
"By the way, when you say that you took interest in my generation of Turks, who do you mean?"  
"You, of course. Your commander Tseng," Elena momentarily became depressed, but resumed her interested posture quickly, and Illyana continued, "and Mr. Reno and Mr. Rude, none of whom we can contact. Tseng, for obvious reasons."   
Elena almost smiled. "Of course."  
"You are most possibly the most sterling example of Turk ideals that have been displayed since the formation of the Smiths. Loyalty, bravery, strength, and even," she said with a smile, "brief bouts of intelligence."  
Elena seemed to blush over her cup of tea. While Jordan sipped hers, a silence grew over the room. Then, Jordan's companion finally spoke up.  
"My name is Niles Rochester, and I'm the assistant to the Head of Personnel. My department has been keeping a close eye on the Turks. You could say that we like to keep watch on the relatives." he said with a smile. He continued as he saw Elena look at him. "My job is to try to recruit potential members of the Smiths, in hopes of advancing our organization. In short, we want you in the Smiths, Elena."  
Elena, though she knew the news was coming, was still a bit overwhelmed by her conflicting emotions. Actually, it was not so much conflicting emotions as the little voice in the back of her mind that cried, 'What about Tseng?'. Elena closed her eyes as she tried to make her decision.   
'Ok,' she thought, 'if I join, it'll be something to do, right?' She remembered the disarrayed state of her domicile, and mentally grimaced. 'Maybe having something to do would be good for me. But on the other hand, there's Tseng. Will I be betraying him by putting myself into my job, instead of his memory?' She remembered how she'd cried after Tseng died, almost expecting his hand to wipe the tears from her eyes, comforting her with his deep voice, telling her it would all be alright. She remembered the anger she'd felt, knowing that he'd been taken away from her, just when they were starting to connect. She remembered the Raid of Midgar, when she'd let Cloud and his friends slip through their fingers, and how she'd been fired and abandoned in one fell swoop. 'But,' she thought, 'there were some good points of my career. Reno, for one. Ok, so he was arrogant, rude, selfish, sleazy, manipulative, brutal, and an jerk, but sometimes, he could almost seem so alone, as if all that he was, was due to sadness. He could be nice sometimes, too.' she added to herself. She was referring to that moment in the tunnels of Midgar, when he told her that she made a great Turk, most likely not even knowing how much those few words meant to her. If only they could have come from Tseng.  
A silence dominated the room as Elena was pondering this momentous decision, and after a minute or so, Jordan spoke again. "Before you answer, remember that this time, you'll be a protector of life, not the herald of death."  
That settled it. Elena opened her eyes, and graced the pair with a stunning smile. "Alright, where do I sign up?"  
Jordan and Niles smiled back at her, though there was something akin to mischief in their eyes. "You just have." Said Jordan, as she rose and approached the door.   
Niles followed suit, but not before placing his tea cup on the table and attempting to straighten up the blankets where his companion sat. He looked up sheepishly as he realized the delay he was causing, and briskly darted towards Jordan. He rubbed the back of his head with his hand, blushing from embarrassment, before directing a nod towards Elena. "Thank you for being so agreeable. I'm sure you'll enjoy working with us." He said, before he squeezed past Jordan and out of the door.   
Jordan glanced at her companion, and let out an exasperated sigh, and smiled almost sheepishly at Elena. "He's a nice guy, but a little shy. I think that you'll be working with him again in the future."  
Elena leaned against her couch, crossing her arms against her chest as she asked, "So do I have any training? It's been awhile since I was a Turk, after all. I'm reluctant to say this, but I'm not quite in the shape I was when I was younger." She said, though she ended the thought with a silent, 'even though that was only 6 months ago.'  
Jordan was half out of the door as she began to answer Elena's inquiry, and Elena had to inch closer to hear her reply. "Oh yes, Elena. They'll be more training. You'll be trained in ways you never thought existed, taught things that were supposed to be lost for thousands of years, and do things defined as impossible." She was at the end of the drive, a step away from entering the passenger side of Niles' sleek black convertible car, when she spoke in a louder voice to Elena, who, despite being clad only in her pajamas and bath robe, was standing in her doorway. "Oh, and Elena," she said to the blonde, who nodded, "you start tomorrow." She finished with a grin, and slammed the car door shut before Elena could say another word. The black car sped off into the night, and she watched until the twin embers of the tail lights could not even been seen on the far horizon before going inside.  
"Well," she said to herself, "I suppose I should pack." With that, she started to take the used dishes to her kitchen, and stopped as she was shuffling through the contents of her table. She picked up a well-worn, slightly torn, very familiar packet of papers. She sat on her couch, glanced at the first page which she had long ago memorized, and smiled slightly. Then, she stuffed the packet back into the box marked "Personnel Records", and then carried that box over to the ones gathered in her hall. She began humming to herself as she worked, the melodic sound carrying through the empty apartment, somehow managing to overcome the noise of the clanging dishes, crinkling trash, and the swish of folded blankets. And, in the box marked "Personnel Records", on top of the pile, the papers with the title "Wong, Tseng" lay unnoticed, for the first time in 6 months.   
***  
Author's notes: This is actually the first part of a side story to a very, very long Cid/Vincent. You wouldn't be able to tell from this, though. I promise you this, however. If I ever get this entire series done, and I will only with massive encouragement, it will include some of the strangest 'pairings' you will ever see.   
Anyway, tell me what you think, and as always, REVIEW! Thanks! 


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